Aimless petal of the wind,

Spinning gently weird circles,

To the flowers underneath

You are a drunken king of motion;

To the plunging winds above

You are momentary indecision.

Aimless petal of the wind,

Waver carelessly against this June.

The universe, like you, is but

The drowsy arm of stillness

Spinning gently weird circles in his sleep.

Comment and send me your Three Things and I will find a poem and a picture and publish them for you!